


wait a minute

by ardenchoe



Category: GOT7
Genre: "i paid with heart instead of money and my weakness was the tip", "i think i left my conscience on your front door step", Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Cuddling, Cute, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Markbum, Maybe idk yet - Freeform, Original Character(s), Short Chapters, This is so soft, also bang! bang! by iwan rheon, but youngjae doesn't appear, delivery guy!mark, exes 2jae, friendships, i say jaebeom not jaebum, i think, jackson isn't helpful, jaebeom has issues, jb puts the bi in bitch, jb takes care of his cousin's ex, jjp counsins oops, like a lot of it, mark is a shy mess, mark is questioning, mentions of 2jae, most of it though, not all of this is gay i'm sorry, stream lullaby, thats it i think, they live in the us, wait a minute by willow, yumi is my favorite character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardenchoe/pseuds/ardenchoe
Summary: mark isn't ready for this





	1. pizza boy

**Author's Note:**

> "i think i left my conscience on your front door step" (willow, wait a minute!)

Lazily, Jaebeom pulls his sweats higher as he stumbles over piles of clothes belonging to Yumi, trying to make his way to the door. The blonde was currently busy loafing about inside what she lovingly called her _blanket burrito of sadness_ , hair up in an probably of Takis reeking messy bun and eyes crusted with tears of both laughter and anger.

Without hesitation, he’d agreed in letting her stay for a while, after hearing about her terribly breakup, even if she’d been his cousin’s fiancée. Ex-fiancée, now. He’d always liked Yumi, her screeching laugh and freckles all over, kind of chubby and cute, yet making him blush with her mouth of a seventy year-old Russian prostitute.

Checking his, admittedly kind of rough-looking, reflection and adjusting a few of the brunette locks on his head that had stood up into a direction it shouldn't have been standing to, and quickly taking a sip of his coke to at least help his salsa-breath a teeny tiny bit. He thoroughly prayed that this was the meat lovers family pizza he’d ordered as Yumi found strange comfort in stuffing herself with the most greasy food she could find.

(Or not strangely. After his breakup with Youngjae, Jaebeom at spend days watching How To Get Away With Murder and eating marshmallows drowned in Hershey’s chocolate syrup. Don’t tell his mom.)

Scratching at his stubbly chin, he opens the front door, half expecting a teen covered in acne and a grumpy expression.

(Spoiler: It’s not.)

“One order of a large meat lovers? I’ve been told to come to number twenty-four, but judging by the lack of people —”, the guy looks behind Jaebeom, frowning a little, “— there’s not a party going on here, so…”

The brunette scoffs a little, running his hand through his hair again. Of course. This is probably a new kid, having expected a large group of college kids having some type of sit-in in the background, not a very lonely and gruff looking Jaebeom, waiting to feed his heartbroken friend a shit ton of super oily pizza.

“Actually, this is for me. Need the fat to survive hibernation.” His tone is sarcastic, obviously, but the guy still flinches a little, eyes widening and cheeks reddening rapidly. Jaebeom bites his lip. This is fun.

Dumbfounded, the other one — the sign on his chest reads **MARK** in bold letters — pulls the pizza box closer to himself, seemingly to comfort himself after the brunette’s little dig. “Uh- yeah,” he laughs a little, albeit a bit unbelieving, “sure… fat…”

It’s cute, Jaebeom reckons. The guy, Mark, doesn’t seem to be that much younger than him, perhaps even around his age, but his shy appearance makes him look small and kind of adorable.

“I’m kidding,” continues Jaebeom, deciding it’d be best to just get Yumi her pizza before she turns up and scares the delivery boy even more — his skin is already matching his read Pizza Hut uniform. “My friend… her fiancée cheated on her and now her only happiness is Overwatch and meat lovers. Not her finest hour but we’ve all been there, haven’t we?”

Mark’s lips quirk up into a pretty smile and Jaebeom finds himself getting a little flustered himself, so he quickly reaches for his wallet on the drawer next to the door, getting out twenty bucks and exchanging it for the giant box. He tells Mark to keep the change, being a college kid and all that. (Jaebeom doesn’t know for sure if the skinny guy is attending college, but he also doesn't deny it, and a few cents don’t hurt him too much.)

“Uh, sorry again — you don’t look like you eat a lot of pizza, that’s why I wondered,” he mumbles before the brunette can close the door, which Jaebeom answers with an amused scoff. “If you want me to give you a piece, you gotta try harder, pizza boy.”

With that, he closes his apartment door.


	2. with extra diabetes

The worst kind of Jackson to be around is a post-drunk, pre-sober Jackson. (When Mark is completely honest, every kind of Jackson is a bad Jackson to be around. He’s a frat boy.) Because p.d.p.s.-Jackson is cranky, sensitive to noise and in a mood for coffee without having to move, meaning he’ll do anything for caffeine, including calling Mark in the asscrack of dawn only for a triple caramel frappuccino with extra diabetes and a chocolate chip cookie.

That would be the explanation Mark would give anyone asking him why on earth he’s up at six A.M. at a fucking Saturday, having the ice-cold wind blowing through the holes of his jeans — why the fuck did he buy them anyway? They have _holes_ in them, Jesus fucking-

“You look better in black,” someone’s voice pulls him back into reality, which is that he’s warming his hands up by rubbing them together, staring down on a still clean floor, instead of the normal dirt that collects after a day of students rushing in and out of the local Philz on a regular day.

At first, Mark feels the urge to snap something at whoever is speaking at him, just for the fact that he’s been disturbed in his inner monologue on why jeans with holes don’t make any sense during winter, why would you wear ripped pants when it’s almost -10°C outside, thank you very much…

Instead, he feels himself heating up terribly, brown eyes burningly staring into his soul as he tries to decipher from where he knows the man in front of him.

 _Hibernation_ , his brain comes for help. Right. Mark’s throat tightens. That.

“Surprised you’d recognize me without the uniform,” he responds after a few seconds, proud on how unrehearsed it sounds. The guy grins. What was his name again?

He’s holding one of these cups Mark’s grown all too accustomed to — he’s been living off of caffeine all through his college time. Caffeine and junk food, to be precise. Shocked, Mark notes the way his shirt (Yes, a t-shirt. Does he not feel how fucking cold it is?) softy hugs itself around his chest, caramel arms full-on display. He looks down, up again, only to see the guy take a sip from his cup.

Even that is fucking beautiful. Mark is stressed.

This is weird — is this weird? It feels weird, just staring at this guy he delivered pizza for. Hell, he should be ordering Jackson’s stupid drink and get the hell outta there. Or.

 _Or_.

“I’m getting caffeine for my alcoholic friend, why’re you up this early?” He tries not to sound too hopeful, not too needy. He’s not needy. You’re only needy when you need something, right? Mark doesn’t need anything except to get back into bed, so why the hell is he trying to make conversation with this male man who’s obviously busy with looking good and drinking his coffee? So, yeah, Mark isn’t needy.

The dark-haired points back to one of the tables Mark’s never considered sitting at because these are only for the weak and spineless (or students that like to study while listening to indie music and thrive off vegan carrot cake). Oh and male men that like to look good, apparently.

Mark follows the man’s finger, only for his eyes to meet those of a woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, even older, with big doe eyes and a blonde ponytail. She gives him a little smile and an unsure wave and Mark thinks _fuck oh my god kill me now_ , but he says “Oh, hi” and waves back like the complete fucking idiot he is. Of course. He’s here with his girlfriend, because heterosexuality, Mark.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so fucking short ): what do u think

**Author's Note:**

> im depressed so heres a fluffy markbum au


End file.
